


one forgets, one cannot

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Gen, Ghost man follows the sad child, Short and... more sad than sweet., Tommy leaves after Tubbo becomes the president
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:15:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27857422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: There is a child on a bench, with his knees pulled up tight to his chest. The child has buried his face in his knees, like he's trying to be as small as possible.The child is crying.
Relationships: Jschlatt & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), No Romantic Relationship(s), Who it is depends on how you read it, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 309
Collections: Anonymous





	one forgets, one cannot

He opens his eyes, and he does not know who he is. He should, but he does not. 

That's not a bad thing in his opinion, although he doesn't really know why. He supposes that he just doesn't mind. He's content with floating about, drifting with the gentle breeze as he grazes his fingertips over the edges of a flower, so he does that instead. He doesn't need to know. 

He floats. He drifts with the breeze, tilts back his head and follows the open waves. He drifts, and he drifts. 

He stops. 

He blinks through eyes that cannot shift, tilts a head that cannot move. 

There is a child on a bench, with his knees pulled up tight to his chest. The child has buried his face in his knees, like he's trying to be as small as possible. 

The child is crying. 

He floats over slowly, following the willful drift of the air. He is light enough for it. He opens his mouth, only to recall that he does not know how to speak. When he tries, his lips form no words. The cords that should line his throat do not shift. He is silent. 

He settles on the opposite side of the bench instead. Drifts a bit above it. The child does not notice. 

The child mutters, bitter and pained and desperately sad. Whispers apologies, mumbles that _"they were right, he was right,"_ and _"God, why was he so stupid?"_ The floating man thinks that it's a bit unfair to say that — although he really wasn't sure why. He tries to ask, but nothing comes. He forgot about the speaking thing again. 

They sit. The child clenches his fists. 

Eventually, the child pushes himself up to stand. His face is red and blotchy, smeared with fresh tears and swollen near the eyes. He wonders just how long the child was crying for. It seems like a long time. 

The child stares right through him, but that's okay. All the animals do too, so he doesn't take offense. 

The child begins to move. He walks, stalking away from the place where the large buildings and a larger crater lay. His hands begin to glitter, and a flat object appears between his nails. The floating man cannot gasp, but he thinks that he would, if he could. He thinks he would gasp, as the child smashes the disk over his knee. It shatters, and the child drops it like it burns him. The floating man wonders what it must feel like to burn. 

The child stares at the remnants of the object, and tears spring anew. The floating man would chide him, if he could. Tell him that it was simply what happened when you destroyed things — they did not magically rebuild themselves just because you look at them. He also wishes to reach down and sweep up the shards. He cannot do either. 

Eventually, the child stands. Even _more_ eventually, the child begins to walk. He does not look back at the city as he makes off toward the forest, hands clutching his arms with too much force. The floating man glances back, stares for a moment at a smear of fabric and dust. At new wooden buildings and a repaired wooden path. He contemplates, although he does not know what. 

He turns his back to the city. He follows the child instead. Drifts behind him as he shuffles through trees, floats through the trunks as he breaks to the shore. Waits as he pulls a boat from his glowing hands, climbs in on trembling feet.

He floats. He waits. He follows. The shore vanishes behind them as the child rows, vision locked on something he cannot see. The floating man feels no great loss. Not like the child must, with the heavy look in his eyes. Too heavy. Too heavy for a child. He thinks about comfort, and impossibility. He forgets. 

The floating man accompanies the child, although he does not know why, even after the tears dry up. He resolves to continue to do so. He drifts, and the wind guides him forward. The chill grows, and although he cannot feel it, he can count the shudders of the child as he rows. 

He sees a distant light. A distant, flickering flame, surrounded by snow. He wonders if that is where the child means to go. 

He decides it doesn't matter. He forgets. 

There was nothing left for them there, in that grand city of ash. So he will follow the child, and see where he goes. 


End file.
